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Chapter 60

           ThewomanfromWICKEDbrokethesilence.

           "Allthingshappenforapurpose,"shesaid,anysignofmalicenowgonefromhervoice."Youmustunderstandthis."

           Thomaslookedather,threwallhiscompressedhatredintotheglare.Buthedidnothing.

           Teresaplacedherotherhandonhisarm,grippedhisbicep.Whatnow?sheasked.

           Idon’tknow,hereplied.Ican’t

           Hissentencewascutshortbyasuddenseriesofshoutsandcommotionoutsidetheentrancethroughwhichthewomanhadcome.Shevisiblypanicked,theblooddrainingfromherfaceassheturnedtowardthedoor.Thomasfollowedhergaze.

           Severalmenandwomendressedingrimyjeansandsoaking-wetcoatsburstthroughtheentrancewithgunsraised,yellingandscreamingwordsovereachother.Itwasimpossibletounderstandwhattheyweresaying.Theirgunssomewererifles,otherpistolslooked...archaic,rustic.Almostliketoysabandonedinthewoodsforyears,recentlydiscoveredbythenextgenerationofkidsreadytoplaywar.

           ThomasstaredinshockastwoofthenewcomerstackledtheWICKEDwomantothefloor.Thenonesteppedbackanddrewuphisgun,aimed.

           Noway,Thomasthought.No

           Flasheslittheairasseveralshotsexplodedfromthegun,slammingintothewoman’sbody.Shewasdead,abloodymess.

           Thomastookseveralstepsbackward,almoststumbled.

           AmanwalkeduptotheGladersastheothersinhisgroupspreadoutaroundthem,sweepingtheirgunsleftandrightastheyshotattheobservationwindows,shatteringthem.

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